"The Wire," HBO (Sundays at 9 p.m.), David Simon and Ed Burns, co-creators.
Not long after "The Wire" debuted in 2002, David Simon explained to Salon that he was interested in creating a show that didn't pander to an audience's expectations. "The pilot of ["The Wire"] is very much the anti-pilot. The one thing it doesn't have is that sense of, 'Are you gonna watch this show now? Are ya? Huh? Huh? Huh? If you don't come back we might kill this guy.' That's what you have to do on network, 'cause if they don't come back, you're cancelled."
That's the sort of pressure that a show like CBS's "CSI: Miami" feels when it promotes its Monday season premiere with flashing images of the cast and a warning that one of these characters will not survive! Despite suspiciously enthusiastic TV forums like this one, it's tough to believe that anyone cares very deeply about disposable characters on a skin-deep crime franchise.
In contrast, the deaths of characters like D'Angelo Barksdale and Frank Sobotka on "The Wire" (season premiere Sunday) felt like body blows to fans of the show, who'd become hooked on its simmering narrative and intricate plot lines. Still, it can be a difficult show. During the second season, when the story seemed to dwell on the inner conflicts of a longshoreman's union or followed the bumbling action of two green detectives who seemed so distant from the main story line, it was tough not to lose patience. Such meandering is utterly deliberate, according to Simon, who writes in "The Wire: Truth Be Told," a just-released companion guide to the show, "We would certainly lose some viewers: those who did not devote enough effort to follow the intricate story, those who gave it their all but were confused nonetheless, and those who, expecting an episodic television drama, would be bored to death by the novelistic pace of [the show]."
The patience and complexity of the storytelling might just be what distinguishes "The Wire" from any other show on TV. Entire episodes can feel like a setup to future plot points. Even the writers behind "The Sopranos," a show that never attempts to create contained little stories, throw in one or two moments per episode -- a great Meadow hissy fit, a memorable visit to Melfi -- that titillate and entertain while the major plots are slowly unfolding. This season, as Tony Blundetto dug himself a deep hole and Adriana slipped into denial about her fate, we were treated to hilarious squabbles between Meadow and her live-in boyfriend and nights on the town with the ever-moronic Anthony Jr. On "The Wire" there are no sops to viewers. Let's just admit it: Things can get a little slow. Like a very long, wordy novel, you need to pay close attention lest you miss something important. And you have to trust there's a payoff down the road -- because there is.